


Into This

by nishizono



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Cliche, Community: ae_match, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishizono/pseuds/nishizono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiding in a closet with Eames had never been part of the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into This

"I can't believe you talked me into this," whispered Arthur.

"I can't believe you _let_ me talk you into this," said Eames. It was impossible to see his face in the dark, but Arthur could tell from his voice that he was smirking.

"You're really fucking pleased with yourself, aren't you?" said Arthur as he twisted to try and get more comfortable. Something was jabbing him in the shoulder-- a mop handle, maybe-- and he shuddered at the thought of the marks it must be leaving on his shirt. In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea to wear white, but hiding in a supply closet with Eames had never been part of the plan.

Out in the copy room, their mark was still banging away at his secretary. They'd only been at it for five minutes, but as far as Arthur was concerned, that was five minutes too long. He closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer that the guy would turn out to be a quick shooter.

"Yeah baby, god, you feel so good," the mark grumbled. "God, I could fuck you all night."

If that wasn't a heavenly 'fuck you' then Arthur didn't know what was.

Meanwhile, Eames snickered into his hand.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Arthur sighed.

"Oh come on, Arthur."

"This isn't funny, Eames. All it takes is for one of them to see those personnel files--"

"Darling, those two are shagging so hard I'd be surprised if they can even see straight."

Arthur scowled and crossed his arms, but he knew their predicament was just as much his fault as it was Eames's. He'd known it was a bad idea to break in at night instead of talking their way in during business hours, but they'd been running short on time, and neither of them had suspected that the mark would be there past midnight. He was supposed to be a family man, at home with his wife and kids, not a pervert with a fetish for office equipment.

"You know," said Eames, "the inconvenience of our situation aside, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy to be spending some time alone with you."

"If you put your arm around me, I'm going to stab you in the kidneys. Both of them."

"You know it hurts my feelings when you stab me."

Arthur couldn't help it: he snorted, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, worried he'd been too loud. When the noise in the copy room went on without pause, he took his hand away and sighed. From the sounds of things, he and Eames wouldn't be making a run for it any time soon.

The closet was starting to get stuffy, so Arthur loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. He'd already rolled up his sleeves, but that hadn't done much to cool him off. He wished he could just take the shirt off altogether, but he wasn't about to start undressing with Eames standing right beside him. He'd rather suffer.

"I can't help but admire his stamina," said Eames just as the mark's secretary let out an ear-splitting shriek.

"Lacking in that department, are we?"

There was a rustle as Eames shifted positions, and suddenly he was much, much closer than he needed to be. "Why? Would you be disappointed if I was?"

"You," said Arthur as he shoved Eames away, "are the most lecherous human being alive."

Eames chuckled like the bastard he was, but at least he went back to standing on his own side of the closet. After a few minutes, he asked in a much more serious tone, "What would it take to get you to loosen up, Arthur? I'm running out of ideas, which is remarkable considering my imagination."

"If your definition of 'loosening up' involves letting you shove your tongue down my throat, then I don't think there's enough alcohol in the world for that."

"Do you actually enjoy insulting me, or has it just become habit?" asked Eames.

"Maybe if you left me alone once in a fucking while..."

"You don't actually want me to leave you alone," said Eames. "You say you do, and you might even think you do, but you don't."

Eames was standing too close again, but when Arthur tried to push him away, Eames caught his hands and refused to let go. Arthur had half a mind to stomp on Eames's foot, but he decided to give civility one last shot by saying, "Stop it, you limey prick, or I swear to god I'll knee you in the balls."

"Your pillow talk could use some work."

"Oh fuck you, Eames, you--"

Eames clapped a hand over Arthur's mouth. Arthur struggled for a second until Eames shook him and hissed, "Listen."

The copier room had gone silent.

Arthur mentally cursed himself. He'd let Eames get him so worked up that he'd forgotten why they were hiding in the first place, and now he was _sure_ they'd been overheard. The mark and his secretary were whispering to each other, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Eames still had a hand over his mouth, but Arthur didn't try to pry it away. He didn't want to get into another scuffle and draw more attention to themselves, so he stood completely still with his heart pounding in his ears and Eames pressed against him from behind.

"It was nothing," said the mark's secretary. "You're just being paranoid. There's no one there."

There was a long pause before the mark muttered, "yeah, okay, you're right," followed by the wet sound of kissing.

Arthur wasn't sure whether to be relieved or annoyed, because on one hand, they hadn't been caught, but on the other, he was _still_ trapped in a closet with Eames-- Eames, who had a hand still over his mouth, and who was standing so close that his breath was tickling Arthur's ear. Arthur swallowed and tried to pull away, but Eames held him in place.

"Do you actually want to get away, or are you just pretending?" whispered Eames.

Arthur made an angry sound and tried to stomp on his toes.

"All right, all right." Eames laughed and took his hand away, but he didn't move otherwise; he was standing so close that Arthur could feel the heat of his body through their clothes.

"What the hell are you doing, Eames?" whispered Arthur.

"Standing in a cupboard."

Arthur turned around and tried to elbow Eames in the side. "God damn it, do you ever take anything seriously? "

"Why should I, when you take everything so seriously for both of us?" said Eames. He grabbed hold of Arthur's elbow, presumably to keep it from jabbing him in the ribs, and then used the hold to pull Arthur up against him. In a whisper, he added, "Now, be a good boy and keep your voice down so they won't hear us."

"I hate you," said Arthur, not even trying to get away. He had no idea what Eames was doing besides being as annoying as humanly possible, but the more they argued and struggled, the more they risked being overheard, so if Eames wanted a cuddle then whatever. Arthur would just have to kill him for it later.

"Well," whispered Eames, directly into Arthur's ear, "this was certainly easier than I thought it would be."

Arthur shivered, then scowled and replied, "I'm going to cut your balls off and shove them up your nostrils."

Eames snorted and slipped an arm around Arthur's waist. "And to think I accused you of lacking imagination."

It was funny, Arthur thought, how not being able to see anything made all of his other senses go haywire. Eames's hand felt huge on his lower back, and when the tip of Eames's nose grazed his forehead, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Arthur," whispered Eames.

Arthur's stomach dropped, but he refused to let himself be intimidated. He licked his lips and replied, "Whatever you're about to ask me, the answer is no."

"What if I don't ask?"

"I'll shoot--" Arthur began, but that was as far as he got before Eames was touching their lips together. It wasn't even a kiss, not really, but it had Arthur's heart racing like he'd just run a marathon. They'd toed this line before, more times than he could count, but neither of them had ever stepped across it until now. It wasn't as scary as he'd thought it would be, and to his own surprise, he was the one who pressed forward and turned the touch into an actual kiss.

Eames made a startled noise and buried his fingers in Arthur's hair, but just a few minutes later, he broke the kiss and said, "Arthur... Arthur, pet, they--"

"Shut up, Eames. Please shut up."

"No-- no, Arthur, really." Eames laughed against Arthur's lips. "They're gone."

"What?" asked Arthur in a daze. He had no idea what Eames was talking about, but after a few seconds of silence had passed, he got it: their mark and his secretary were gone.

"We should probably..." Eames trailed off, but he didn't let go of Arthur.

Arthur didn't move either; he kept his fingers knotted in the front of Eames's shirt and said, "Yeah, we should."

"We need to finish copying those files."

"Yeah, the files."

There was another tense silence before they both pulled away at the same time. Arthur straightened his tie and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get a hold of himself before he was forced to look Eames in the eye. He had no idea what the fuck had just happened between them, but he did know they needed to get out of there while they had the chance. Once he'd sorted himself out as best he could, he turned and cracked the door open to peer out into the deserted copy room. When he was sure the coast was clear, he made a beeline for the files they'd been forced to abandon.

"Just nick them," said Eames as he reached around Arthur and snatched the files out of his hand.

"Eames, what the fuck are you doing?" said Arthur as he whirled around to glare at Eames. He made a grab for the files, but Eames held them just out of reach, and he'd be damned if he was going to play keep-away. He crossed his arms and scowled at Eames, whose lips were twitching in a barely-there smile. "Give me the fucking files, Eames."

"Arthur," said Eames, "no one is going to notice them missing, and even if they did, they'd think they were lost, not stolen. Now, stop your pouting and let's go before Romeo and his would-be Juliet come back for seconds, yes? You can lament my existence over a glass of wine in my hotel room."

"Don't push your luck." Arthur glowered, then after a long pause, he heaved a sigh and said, "I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this."

Eames's grin was triumphant.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the long-suffering but always magnificent ships_harry for the beta. Written for ae_match.


End file.
